


Mirage

by NanakiBH



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 16:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: Memories are the haze over hot pavement, the mirages of the heart.





	Mirage

**Author's Note:**

> This began with the innocent thought of "Yusuke taking a well-needed nap in Akira's bed". Kind of evolved from there. You know I love melancholy, right? I do. I also love taking care of Yusuke.

And, with that, the painting was finished.

But only in the technical sense.

There were still a number of adjustments and finishing touches to be made. The deadline was right around the corner, but Yusuke was keeping his eye on the time, aiming to use every second to produce his best work.

On top of academic exams, he also had a painting presentation to worry about. His friends at Shujin had it easy in comparison.

Speaking wasn't his strong suit. Yusuke hadn't planned what he was going to say about the piece yet, and he didn't have any plans to come up with anything, either. His instructor would probably accuse him of being cocky again if he didn't prepare some words about his work... And perhaps he wouldn't be wrong.

Recently, Yusuke had felt a surge of confidence in his work.

It was thanks to Akira.

Yusuke was only willing to put all of his eggs in one basket because he truly believed that his work was capable of speaking for itself. His immature eyes had been opened. Akira had shown him that the ugliness within the heart was the well from which true beauty sprang. He expected that the piece he created would speak to the viewers' hearts in a way that his peers would be unable to match. If he had any hopes of ascending in the art world, then he had to first conquer over his classmates by producing a work of genius the likes of which Kosei had never seen.

He had a feeling that he would even be able to compensate for his other weaknesses if he just spent a little more time with Akira. When it came to Shadow negotiations, Akira had proven himself to be a persuasive speaker.

Yusuke wanted to learn from him... But he was also just happy knowing that he had someone close to him who could do many of the things he couldn't.

When he was with Akira, he felt complete.

Akira probably would have laughed at him for even thinking such a thing, of course. He would have told him that he was fine just as he was; flaws, weaknesses, and all. While Yusuke couldn't disagree with that, he was amused to realize that he was able to predict what Akira would say. The ability to empathize and relate to others used to be beyond his understanding.

The ability to understand himself... It was only just beginning to take shape.

In order for it to grow, he needed someone like Akira.

He needed his opinions, his insight, his discerning thief's eye. At the simplest glance, Akira was able to determine a thing's value. That was why Yusuke felt confident standing by him. Those eyes saw value in him.

Akira had told him that he enjoyed spending time with him because it helped broaden his own artistic sensibilities. Yusuke didn't know what to say to convince Akira that he was already gifted; the ability to look was a talent of its own. He was more than happy to continue providing him with artistic stimulation, however.

Yusuke really enjoyed the thought of improving with him; he as the artist and Akira as an aesthete.

Though he was desperately tired from working, he wanted to show his painting to him. Even though he knew that he would be able to show it to him later, for some reason, Yusuke wanted him to be the first person to see it. Akira's opinion was important, but it was more than that. There was a mysterious factor that Yusuke couldn't explain.

When speaking in front of his peers, even if he felt confident, his palms would sweat with typical nervousness. But when he showed his work to Akira, his heartbeat would double, his face would feel warm.

He liked Akira a lot, so it seemed obvious to him that he would be excited to share his creations with him. Yet, even though Akira was there, it felt like there was something missing. Yusuke felt compelled to share with him as if to fill a blank space inside of himself.

Indeed, it was a mysterious feeling. He didn't want to think about it too heavily in the fear of it influencing the piece he'd been working on. As always, he expected that Akira would be able to explain it for him, so he elected to ignore it instead. Ignoring his feelings was never a simple task, but, since he had barely a grasp of what it was he was feeling, it was easier than usual to push the niggling thought away.

 

It was about time for him to get going.

 

Yusuke was grateful for the air conditioning in the dorms, but there was no such thing to speak of in the studio where he did the majority of his work. The windows were open and there were a pair of industrial fans that at least helped to circulate the air and keep paint fumes from accumulating, but it didn't help the heat. At times, it was difficult to even move his brush, his mind and body feeling sluggish beneath the oppressive, inescapable July heat.

He was kind of surprised. His classmates were conscientious and hardworking people, but they rarely appeared around the studio when it was hot. Those who came only stayed for an hour or two before succumbing. There was one boy who joined him who sat and silently scrutinized his own canvas for about half an hour before exiting in an explosion of colorful expletives.

Yusuke was concerned for what exam day would be like for them if their artistic force couldn't even withstand the weather.

For his own part, Yusuke was pretty sure he started hallucinating on a few occasions, but the work got done and that was what mattered. He just had to persevere for a little longer to ensure that he produced his best work.

For that, he required Akira.

 

Finally deciding to take a break, he moved his easel to a corner of the room, trusting that no one would touch it in his absence. He messaged Akira to confirm that he was still around the shop, then departed from the school, heading toward Leblanc.

A couple times on the way, he almost fell asleep; once while on the train, then one more time when he was walking down the Yongen-jaya backstreets. The heat was everywhere, wrapping around him like a blanket. As alluring and comforting as that analogy sounded in his imagination, it was anything but. The air felt thick and difficult to breathe. Every breath seemed to make his body hotter, boiling him from the inside out.

Once he made it to Leblanc, he all but collapsed into one of the stools at the counter.

The shop may not have been air conditioned, but its position between the surrounding buildings kept it cool in the shade.

As soon as Akira saw him enter, he was on his way toward him and was already standing in front of him by the time he sat down. Yusuke lifted his heavy head and smiled up at Akira.

“Ah... It is as if I have reached an oasis; the respite for my tired body and weary mind. Truly, there is no other place as comforting as this. I knew that I could rely on Leblanc, even as the heatwave rages outside. Thank goodness. Mn. Truly. Thank goodness.”

Akira stared at him. Morgana, sitting on the stool beside him, stared as well.

“Uh. Yeah, good afternoon to you, too. Are you feeling alright?” Akira asked, squinting. “You're sounding stranger than usual. You also look kind of... _red_. How long were you outside?”

“Not too long,” Yusuke assured him. “More importantly, Akira, I require your opinion on the piece I made for my painting exam. So that I may stand at the top of the class, I've been working on it nonstop, slaving over my vision from dusk to dawn. Now it is nearly complete. I believe your thoughts will help me determine the finishing touches.”

Akira narrowed his eyes further. “Dusk to dawn...?”

Taking a breath to calm the uneasy swaying in his head, Yusuke nodded. “Indeed. I'm challenging my limits. A true artist cannot let their motivation be ruled by the elements.”

“It sounds like more than just the elements to me.”

“You're right...” Sleep was a problem. He didn't want to force himself to work faster, so he needed to find a way to make more time for himself. “Coffee sounds like just the thing I need.”

Coffee...

On second thought, the smell didn't seem to be agreeing with him. And the thought of swallowing anything hot and fragrant was...

“Yusuke?”

He grasped the edge of the counter, but it wasn't enough to stop the spinning in his head. At the same time, it felt like something was pressing on his temples from either side. His eyes watered as he swallowed back an unpleasant wave of nausea. It was a wonder he managed to keep himself from losing what was in his stomach, though it surely wouldn't have been much of anything – he hadn't eaten anything since the prior evening.

“Yeah... I'm not giving you coffee,” Akira said, watching him carefully. “Morgana, you know what to tell him.”

Yusuke glanced at Morgana out of the corner of his eye. He was looking at him with the same kind of look Akira was giving him.

He stood up on the stool and flicked his tail. “Go to bed! Jeez, did you forget that you're human? I always have to tell Akira to go to sleep, but I never expected I'd be having to tell you. I thought you were more responsible than this, Yusuke.”

“Responsible...? I'm sorry, I don't-...”

He didn't understand.

He couldn't think about it, though. His head still needed to calm down.

Behind the counter, Akira was hurriedly removing his apron. When the Boss noticed, he asked him what he was doing.

“Yusuke's sick,” Akira said, hanging up the apron. “Sorry for ditching you early, but I have to take care of this.”

The Boss gave him one look and seemed to agree with Akira, which left Yusuke wondering if he really looked _that bad._ On the bright side, there weren't any other customers, so he let Akira off the hook. He only yelled at him for letting Morgana sit on one of the stools, but the warning sounded like a halfhearted afterthought.

When Akira came around to his side, he offered him his shoulder to lean on. Yusuke refused, but he immediately reconsidered once he stood and realized that he wasn't able to stay on his feet without assistance.

The attic wasn't far away, but it felt like it took great effort to climb the stairs.

 

Once they were up, he tried to dislodge himself from Akira's hold, but he refused to let him go.

“I don't want you to hurt yourself,” he said.

He was probably right...

When Yusuke looked down at the floor, it felt like it was rising up to meet him. The room around him suddenly seemed to shift and tilt, changing shape in front of his eyes. It was fascinating, but in a disconcertingly dizzying way. Even though he felt completely in control of himself as he observed the peculiar effect, his limbs took on a mind of their own, moving as if to follow the shifting of the room.

He reached out and grasped the front of Akira's shirt when his legs gave way. Fortunately, Akira was still holding him up. Still, even though he was standing upright, his perception felt unbalanced. Things didn't feel right.

Akira slowly led him to the bed and helped him sit down.

“Akira... I'm sorry,” he said, keeping his head down. As long as he kept his eyes on the hands in his lap, he didn't notice the swaying of his surroundings.

“It's alright.” Akira's hands were still on his shoulders, rubbing gently. “I'm glad you came here. Things could've been really bad if you tried to keep pushing yourself.”

“I... don't think I was pushing myself...?”

Had he been? It hadn't felt like it. Things like hunger and tiredness were minor inconveniences he was used to ignoring on a regular basis. Carrying on despite some discomfort seemed like the normal thing to do.

He heard Morgana give an annoyed-sounding huff. “You idiot. Haven't you paid attention to the weather reports? People can die in this kind of heat.”

Moving his hands down Yusuke's arms, Akira knelt so he could get down on his level. The only other place Yusuke seemed capable of looking was at his face. There was concern written in his features – in the pinch between his brow and in the firm, flat line his mouth was set in.

He placed his hands over Yusuke's.

The contact was appreciated, but it was too hot. Yusuke was sure that he had to be the one who was burning up, but even the slightest additional warmth made him take notice of just how hot he truly felt.

“Ignoring the heat is one thing,” Akira said. “Just how long were you awake? When was the last time you ate or had something to drink?”

“Uh...” Yusuke was ashamed of how inarticulate he suddenly felt. It was hard to gather his thoughts. “I can't remember. Sorry. I don't feel well...”

Admitting that out loud made him feel weak. Things had really taken a turn.

“I don't want to make unnecessary assumptions, but... Your mother had problems with her health, didn't she? You need to take care of yourself. You aren't some kind of invincible art machine. You could end up causing permanent damage to your body if you keep treating yourself like this.”

Yusuke nodded numbly. He was being scolded like a child...

Had Akira spoken to him that way in the past, he might've felt irritated or offended, but, at that moment, he didn't mind it. It felt like it had been ages since anyone told him what to do. He felt bad that he'd disappointed Akira, but he appreciated his concern.

“You're a good leader,” Yusuke mumbled. It was the only thing in his head.

Looking a little confused, Akira smiled. “Thanks.”

He moved his hands to the front of Yusuke's shirt and began unbuttoning it.

Despite the haze in his head, Yusuke suddenly felt more lucid. Pushing Akira's hands away, he wrapped his arms around his chest to protect his endangered dignity.

“S-Stop right there! What do you think you're doing?!”

“Helping,” Akira replied calmly. He placed his hands on Yusuke's arms and gently moved them aside so that he could continue unbuttoning his shirt. “I want you to lay down here and get some rest. You'll be more comfortable without this on. You're wearing another shirt underneath this one, aren't you?”

He was.

“See? It's fine.”

Yusuke felt silly for getting defensive – especially when he considered who he was accusing and what he was accusing him of. He knew that Akira would never try to do anything so unseemly. Anytime they approached something unfamiliar, he would always request his permission first. Yusuke may have been in the perfect position to be taken advantage of, but Akira would never.

With a little thought, he quickly went from feeling silly to just feeling bad.

After Akira helped him take off his top layer, he began folding it carefully. “Morgana's going to stay here with you for a minute while I go grab you some water. If you start feeling sick, there's a waste basket next to the bed. I can stay up here and work on a few things at my desk, so I'll be here if you need me. Just lay down and try to relax for now.”

“I prefer sleeping on a futon-”

“Don't complain.” Akira gave him a good stare. “I already know you can sleep anywhere. If you managed to sleep on my crappy sofa, I think you can sleep on my bed.”

Akira's bed...

The reality of things hadn't quite sunken in until that second. They were something of an item, but Yusuke was pretty sure they were still at the beginner stages of their relationship. Going on dates, holding hands, and kissing were all acceptable at their level, but they hadn't made it to the advanced stages yet where things like sex were concerned. Sitting on Akira's bed made him feel startlingly aware of the future of their relationship.

Akira sighed. “What are you thinking about? Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I wasn't...”

Well. His thoughts hadn't been explicit, at least. Sooner or later, though, he was going to have to let himself become more acquainted with the idea if he ever planned to deepen his relationship with Akira in a physical sense. For the moment, thinking about it only made his condition intensify.

A weak groan fell from Yusuke's mouth as he lifted a hand to cradle his aching head. “I think... I might need some rest, after all...”

“What, you didn't believe us?” Morgana said. “Lay down, already! I'm getting queasy just looking at you wobbling around.”

It had honestly taken a while before he was ready to believe them. When he left the studio, he felt fine – fine enough to keep going. But then, once he was sitting at the counter, he started feeling off. It progressed rapidly from there.

Was that what 'crashing' was...?

Without any further unnecessary consideration for whose bed it was he was resting on, Yusuke laid down and tried his best to relax. Doing so was more difficult than anticipated. Akira's room was certainly cooler than the terrible heat outside, but it felt like the heat had managed to follow him inside and was laying on his chest. It felt like someone was still pressing on his temples, but there was also a new, awful pulsing sensation behind his eyes that seemed to appear as soon as he laid down. Even his limbs felt tired and painful, and no position seemed more comfortable. The slightest movements sent him swirling back into dizziness.

He chose to lay flat on his back with his arms at his sides. If he felt like he was dying, best to play dead and pray for it to pass him over, he figured.

A couple moments after he closed his eyes, he felt Akira's hand on his shoulder again, gently reassuring him of his presence.

“I'll be right back,” he said.

Those words floated through Yusuke's dwindling consciousness, gradually disappearing along with all other coherent thought as he fell asleep.

 

_“Yu... … ke”_

 

…

 

_“Yusuke.”_

 

“Sensei...?”

 

“Yes, very good. You seemed to be daydreaming quite deeply. You're going to miss the things around you if you get stuck in your own thoughts like that.”

He laughed warmly.

Yusuke stared, captivated yet confused by his teacher's young appearance. It had been a long, long time since he looked so youthful, since he was able to laugh with such sincerity.

It didn't take much for Yusuke to realize that he was dreaming, but his body was too exhausted to wake up. He didn't wish to entertain a dream about the past, but it seemed he had no other choice. Because he was aware, it was as if he stood outside of himself, watching a vestige of his past self interact with the memory of who his teacher used to be.

He didn't know where they were. The atmosphere seemed inconsequential to the scenario.

It was bright and sunny. There was a lot of green grass. There was a house nearby. Clotheslines ran overhead with nothing hanging from them.

His younger self was sitting in the grass, clutching a thick marker, a sketchbook open in his lap. Yusuke wasn't sure how old he was supposed to be, but the scene felt like something familiar – something that probably happened, once upon a time or two. He could've been anywhere from five to eight years old or all of the above.

He was making a picture, but Yusuke couldn't see it. It probably didn't matter what it was. The fact that he knew that there was a picture was all that really mattered to satisfy the atmosphere of the dream.

“Sensei,” his younger self began, “why did you stop painting?”

That was a good question. Yusuke would've preferred to hear the answer from the real Madarame, but he was curious, so he listened nonetheless.

“Stopped? I'm simply in a slump. I can't paint if I don't have any ideas.”

“But that's not true... Look around. There are all kinds of things to paint. Are you sure you haven't gotten stuck in your own head? You'll miss the things around you.”

His teacher laughed heartily and patted him on the head. “Yes, you're right, Yusuke. I'm not very good at practicing what I preach, am I? What a terrible sensei I am... If only I were as young as you... I'm sure I would be able to see things differently. Your talent is a treasure.”

“Talent?” His younger self shook his head adamantly. “You don't need talent. You don't need to look at things in a special way, either. If you want to paint, you only need to love painting. Isn't a 'slump' just another way of saying that you're scared? Did something happen? You love painting, don't you?”

His question seemed to catch Madarame off guard but probably only because it caught Yusuke so off guard as well. At the back of his mind, he'd always wondered what it was that eventually drove Madarame to that drastic point. Especially after hearing the stories from that Kawanabe Akiko about what Madarame was like when he was younger, it just seemed so strange. It was like he suddenly changed one day, like evil crawled inside of him and corrupted his creative spirit.

It had been there, once...

Yusuke was sure of it.

But...

“It's alright, Sensei! I'll help you out of your slump. Look, look!” He held up the picture he'd drawn. What was drawn there didn't matter. Yusuke was distracted by his younger self's bright smile, by the way he glowed with bright and vivid enthusiasm, so excited to show Madarame his picture.

“Magnificent,” Madarame said. He sat down in the grass beside him and placed a hand atop his head to pet his hair again. His cynicism seemed to crumble away as a nostalgic look of fondness appeared in his eyes. “Thank you, Yusuke.”

That wasn't right.

That wasn't his sensei anymore.

That person was in the past.

Yusuke finally noticed that he was able to move. Unwilling to stand there and passively watch any longer, he rushed forward and lunged toward Madarame. His arm went through him and the image of him vanished in the blink of an eye, gone as if he had never been there. Only his younger self remained, staring at him.

As Yusuke put his focus on him, everything else around them became unnecessary and disappeared.

“You...” Unsure what it was he wanted to say, his heart filled with emotions too big for words, he moved without thinking. Reaching out, he seized his younger self by the front of his shirt and found him surprisingly physical beneath his hands. “What's wrong with you? What do you think you're doing?”

His stare was unnerving.

“He hurt you!”

He remained expressionless.

“Why would I want to change him now? After what he did? He doesn't deserve it!”

Yusuke wished he would say something.

“I don't need him anymore, anyway. I... I have Akira now. He'll tell me my paintings are magnificent... I-I'm sure he'd even pat me on the head if I asked him to! So...!”

But that wasn't enough.

That wasn't all he wanted.

He knew that.

If only he'd matured a little faster... If only he hadn't turned his eyes away from Madarame's cruelty and misdeeds, he might have been able to do something. He wasn't like the other students. He was closer to Madarame than they were, so he had opportunities they didn't have. If only he'd spoken to him on one of those occasions and found out what it was that made him change...

Then maybe he could've done something.

Even if it had only been simple jealousy, he could have forced Madarame to confront it.

Yusuke knew that he had no reason to feel guilty. It wasn't his fault. The circumstances were beyond his control. Unless he had a time machine, it was absurd to even imagine that he could have done things differently.

Still...

He hated it.

Madarame was irreplaceable.

“Why am I talking to you like you're someone else? I already know... You're me.”

Yusuke gently lowered them both down and released him. Yelling at him was no better than yelling at his own reflection in the mirror. It made more sense to be calm and try to think rationally.

As soon as he submitted to that fact, a pair of large arms encircled him in a protective embrace.

“Goemon, I miss him... I know that changing his heart doesn't erase the things he did, but... None of that changes who I am or what I want. Even if we remain separate now, I wish I could restore his love of painting. That's all. I want him to remember the painter he used to be. If he doesn't deserve it, then I'll just call it my own selfish desire. I'd like to see his paintings again. For myself. Because it's what I want.”

He was still being dishonest with himself, though. There was no point in trying to hide it.

“And... I want to show him my art. I want him to praise me.” Admitting that was more painful than anything. Akira was always willing to praise him and point out his flaws, but there was no guarantee that Akira would always be there, and that was what Yusuke really wanted. That was what he missed; having someone whose support he could rely on indefinitely. “I suppose I am still just a child, after all, aren't I? I wonder if Sensei would laugh at me.”

For some reason, the thought was enough to make Yusuke laugh. In the position he was in, he couldn't imagine Madarame getting too angry at him.

After a moment, he realized that he'd called him 'sensei'. It might've only been a dream, but he distinctly heard the word in his head. It was there a lot. It was there all the time. It never really went away.

“Ah. Yes... I was very proud to call him my sensei. Just because he isn't anymore, that doesn't change the fact that he was, does it? There may have been parts of him I didn't see, but it wasn't all a lie. I wonder if it's alright for me to still feel proud. His name has been painted in shame now, but I knew a part of him no one else knew. I suppose that means I'm allowed to feel a little proud. It's quite curious... I'm used to feeling things with my whole heart. It's hard for me to feel 'half-proud'.”

There were a lot of truths that were hard to acknowledge...

Not all emotions were felt with the same strength.

It was impossible to know another person in exactly the way they knew themselves.

'Forever' was a tenuous concept.

Everything about the world was less definite than Yusuke had thought. Before he knew it, the entire landscape of his future had changed overnight. It was only natural that he'd feel afraid – that he would desperately push himself to his limits in the hope of making himself look more valuable to the one who pitied him enough to give him their attention.

“Do I love Akira... Or do I just want someone who's willing to listen to me?”

At Kosei, everyone avoided him. They thought he was weird. No one there could relate to him.

Akira was different. The others were different, too, but there was no doubt they were together because of him.

Anyone would've fallen for him.

And yet, for some reason, Akira had chosen him. Even though he was weird. And eccentric. Even though he'd been so harsh and mean to him.

“It doesn't matter,” Yusuke said quietly, leaning into the arms that held him. “One way or another, things happened. It doesn't matter how, does it? I want someone who will pay attention to me, but I also love Akira. Maybe I love Akira because he pays attention to me. I get it. I understand now.”

It had been a mistake, trying to paint his feelings in black and white.

When it came to Madarame, and when it came to Akira, he couldn't limit his palette. The full spectrum was required if he wanted to see the whole picture.

“Is it time to wake up yet? This may sound funny, but I've grown tired of being asleep,” Yusuke said.

Rising, Goemon grasped his hand and brought him up to his feet with him. To Yusuke's surprise, he spoke.

“Farewell. Until we meet again,” he said. “May you be happy.”

Yusuke laughed. “The same to you, my friend.”

 

Gradually, he returned to consciousness, blinking his eyes open groggily against the dull pain in his head. He smelled the attic's familiar scent of coffee, felt a breeze coming from Akira's open window, and heard the faint skritching of Akira's pencil as he studied at his desk. Looking out the window, Yusuke gathered that he must have been asleep for a long time. The sun was already going down.

“Oh dear...”

“Hm?” Hearing his voice, Akira set down his pencil and turned around in his seat. “Oh, hey, you're finally awake. I was getting worried. How do you feel?”

Putting a hand to his head, Yusuke pushed himself up. “How do I feel...? That hardly matters. I've wasted so much time-”

Maybe it mattered a little more than he was willing to admit. His head swam with his change in position, bringing back that awful feeling of nausea. As badly as he wanted to go back to work, he knew that he wouldn't be able to focus in that condition. Not only did his body still ache, he could barely think straight. It took him a moment to remember the events that transpired in the time between his departure from Kosei and his arrival at Leblanc.

“Here.” Getting up from his desk, Akira joined him on the bed, holding a bottle of water for him. “Sorry. It was cold a few hours ago. I hope you don't mind room temperature.”

Compared to his heated fingertips, the bottle felt cold. Yusuke uncapped it and took a big, appreciative drink from it.

Akira continued speaking as he watched him cautiously. “It probably would've been better if you drank that earlier, but I couldn't wake you up once you were asleep. I mean, you looked really peaceful, so I didn't want to disturb you, but I tried. You were dead to the world. I figured that if you got worse, I could always call Takemi...” Noticing the blank look on Yusuke's face, he explained. “She's the doctor who works at the clinic up the street. She's the one I go to for the medicine I bring with us into the Metaverse. If you ever need anything, it's safe to talk to her – about Phantom Thieves business, too.”

It was surprising to think that they could speak to anyone candidly about their business, but it made sense. He remembered who she was. They rescued her career by changing the heart of the doctor who blackmailed her.

Akira really had a way of getting others to trust him...

“Thank you. I'll keep that in mind,” Yusuke said.

He lowered his eyes, tightening his fingers slightly around the thin plastic bottle, sorting through the thoughts in his head, trying to make sense of them.

Making a worried sound, Akira moved himself closer. “You never answered. Are you alright?”

“I'm...” Yusuke avoided Akira's eyes, feeling a lump forming in his throat. “I was dreaming. I remember now... Have you ever had a dream where you spoke to your Persona?”

“Uh.” Akira scratched his cheek, smiling nervously. “Yeah? Kind of. Something like that, you could say.”

So it wasn't strange. And it probably wasn't totally a dream...

Pushing off the light blanket, setting the water aside, Yusuke pulled his knees up and inched himself closer to the window so he could lean on the sill, craving the cool air. Outside, the sun was rapidly making its descent. It was raining lightly, the air filled with its sticky humidity. Akira's wind chime made a delicate, pretty sound as the wind blew.

As the breeze touched his face, Yusuke closed his eyes and rested his head on his folded arms on the sill. “I took a picture of my painting with my phone, but I wanted you to see it in person. It's a different experience.” Lifting his head a little, he looked over his shoulder at Akira, trying to keep his expression neutral, trying not to seem needy. “Would you be willing to go there with me? To the studio.”

Akira answered more quickly than Yusuke expected. “Sure. Is there still time? It's probably too late now, and you should rest.”

“You can come with me tomorrow, if that's acceptable.”

He was hoping that Akira would approve of the piece. His reaction would determine what sort of adjustments would need to be made, and, consequently, how much time he would need to make them. The less time needed, the more time he would have to work on accompaniments.

Regardless, that wasn't the most pressing matter in his mind any longer – as unusual as that was.

“Once it's finished, will you come to my presentation?” he asked.

Akira repositioned himself, getting closer to him again, sitting next to him with his back against the wall. “Of course.” He brushed his hair away from his glasses and smiled. “Just tell me when it is and I'll make sure my schedule's clear. If it's during the day, though, I might be in my own exams.”

It would work out. Each student was given half an hour to make their presentation. Then there was another half hour dedicated to critiquing. He had regular exams during the day like everyone else, so his painting final had to take place in the evening.

“Will you also come to the one in fall?” he asked.

“Hm? Sure.”

“And will you come to the one after that?”

He knew he sounded childish.

But Akira didn't laugh at him or act like he said anything strange. “I'm starting to get the sense that this is hypothetical, but yes. Sure. I'll try my best to make it,” he said, leaning closer.

Yusuke moved toward him as well, unable to help himself, wanting to be closer. “Will you even look at the nonsense I scribble on a whim? Even the things I don't devote hours to?”

The space between them gradually disappeared. His warm forehead touched Akira's.

“If it made you happy, then yeah, of course,” he said. Their mouths were a mere inch apart, so Akira kissed him. “What's this about?”

“I just want you to see my work. That's all. The pieces I've made, the pieces I haven't made yet... I never used to care about how many eyes my paintings were seen by because I always had one person who I proudly held up my work for. But... Now he isn't here anymore.”

With a solemn look, Akira leaned back and looked away. It seemed he understood. “You mean Madarame, right? It's not like he's gone.”

“I know that.” Though he wasn't so sure. “It's just that a part of me still wishes he were here, as if speaking to him would change anything. I wish he could've gone to my presentation, but he probably wouldn't have been able to make it anyway... Or there would've been an excuse. Even after his change of heart, I can't say whether he would have been truly happy for me. I think time away from him may be making me nostalgic for who he used to be. I know he's not the person from my memory. But even so...”

“Is that why you pushed yourself?”

A part of his dream returned to him; his younger self holding up his picture for Madarame to see, radiating with pride and joy. “It's just hard for me to believe that the Sensei I knew isn't still inside of him somewhere. So I overcompensated. I thought... If I can show him my greatest work, he might remember what it was like when he loved painting, and then he'd return to his old self.” Yusuke laughed humorlessly. “How foolish I am. Even if he painted again, even if he praised my work again, we can't go back anymore.”

“I don't think you're being foolish. It sounds to me like you're very aware of how you feel,” Akira said. “You're kind, so you want him to be happy even if he hurt you. I think that's admirable, in a way. You may not be able to go back to the way things used to be, but... Mn...” He toyed awkwardly with the hair that hung in front of his glasses, his face reddening. “You have me now. He was like your father, so I can't replace him, but I can be whatever else you need. That's like my special skill, after all.”

Yusuke was touched.

Never had anyone extended such selfless kindness to him. It was hard to believe and harder to accept. It was too much for someone like him. He didn't know what to do with it.

So he tried to push it back.

“Are you sure?” Yusuke asked, sitting with his back to the window. He felt a bit of the cold rain touch his shoulder from behind. “You don't know what else goes on in my heart. I... I'm incredibly selfish. I want you to always think about me. I want you to always be there when I need you – for anything. I-I want to be more important to you than anyone else.”

For a moment, Akira stared at him.

Then he laughed.

Yusuke knew he'd laugh for sure that time.

So his eyes widened in surprise when a hand was placed on the top of his head.

“Isn't that normal?” Akira asked, laughing. “That all sounds like stuff you should expect from me.”

“I-Isn't it unreasonable?”

Akira stroked his hair and moved in for another light kiss. “No? I don't think so. In fact, you're welcome to be as unreasonable as you'd like. Go ahead and test me. You sound embarrassed to admit that you need someone, but I think I'm even more embarrassing. I like feeling needed. The more you ask of me, the happier I am. I'll always be there for you, Yusuke. For anything.”

“Always...”

Akira nodded.

'Forever' may have been a tenuous concept, but his leader's word was as good as a guarantee, so if he said 'always', then...

Yusuke pushed aside the hand on his head and watched the expression on Akira's face change to one of surprise as he moved in and wrapped his arms around his waist. His headache was subsiding, but he still felt exhausted, and his tiredness only seemed to become more profound when he rested his head against Akira's chest. He was warm and his chest was firm in just the right way.

More little pieces of Yusuke's dream came back as he felt Akira return his embrace.

“You have strong arms,” Yusuke tiredly mumbled, cheek pressed against Akira's chest. “Feels nice.”

“Th... Thanks.”

“Not as big as Goemon's, though.”

Akira grabbed the water bottle from where Yusuke left it. “Alright, time for more water. Someone's starting to sound delirious.”

Yusuke accepted the water from him and took a sip. “I was being serious, actually. I'm pretty sure he was really there in my dream. I hadn't thought about what made me so desperate to share my project with you until he made me look at myself. He must be trying to watch out for me because he's a part of me. If anything happened to me, he would be in trouble, too.” He took another thoughtful sip of water. “In any case, I must thank you for your hospitality, Akira. Your thoughtfulness has saved me once again.”

“My pleasure. All I had to do was sit here and keep an eye on you. Did you enjoy sleeping in my bed?”

He'd been asleep, so it was hard to say. “I still prefer a futon. Your mattress is too firm and lumpy, and it was unsettling to sleep with such distance between myself and the floor.”

“Wow. Anything else?”

Yusuke nodded. “Hm. Yes. Despite that, I felt very much at ease. Even within my dream, I always had the sense that you were nearby if I needed you. Oh, and your bed smells like you. That's nice. You have a very comforting scent.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Akira glanced away, his cheeks a flustered pink. “Th-That so? I've heard you say something like that before... You know what I smell like?”

Yusuke leaned closer to be sure. Pressing his nose to the space between Akira's neck and shoulder, he took a deep breath, taking in the smell of his shirt. It was just like he recalled. It filled him with a pleasant feeling. “Indeed. I wasn't mistaken. It's like coffee, fresh laundry, and... Something uniquely 'you'. That's the part I enjoy most. I like the way the shop smells, but it doesn't compare to your distinct fragrance.”

“ _Fragrance..._ ” Akira sounded skeptical of his word choice, but he didn't mock him for his observation. “Alright.”

While sipping more water, Yusuke nudged Akira to get him to lean back against the wall the way he wanted so he could rest against his side and use him like a pillow. The cool, damp air felt so relaxing... “May I stay here tonight?” he asked.

One of Akira's hands touched the back of his neck. His fingers played with his hair. “Yeah, of course. I wouldn't expect you to go anywhere tonight. You can stay here and tell me all about your project, if you'd like. Then, tomorrow, I'll hop on the train after school and check it out in person.”

“I hope you like it.”

“I'm sure I will.”

The picky part of him wanted to say that there was no way Akira could know for sure that he'd like it until he saw it, but Yusuke held his tongue. When it came down to it, Akira's approval was the thing he wanted most. He even questioned if it had to be sincere. As long as Akira told him he did a good job, Yusuke had the feeling he would easily regard his creation as a success.

“I think the shop has probably cleared out by now. I can get you something to eat.”

“Oh yeah, what ever happened to Morgana?”

“That gluttonous fiend...” His face was overcome by a keen look of resentment. “He's been downstairs behind the counter this whole time, getting hand-fed scraps by Sojiro. There's a double-standard here, isn't there? There is. It's unfair.”

“Well. That's alright. The Boss' preferential treatment of Morgana has afforded us some time alone together. I think that's something to be thankful for.”

“...Sometimes, I really like the way you think,” Akira said. He looked impressed, but his attitude changed in a second. Untangling himself from Yusuke's arms, he got up and stood in front of him, hands on his hips. “Still, you need to take care of yourself! Lay back down and consider your well-being. I'll be back.”

And then he disappeared down the stairs.

With a wide yawn, Yusuke did as he was told. He set what remained of the water on the floor and laid back down, resting his head on the pillow. Linking his hands over his stomach, he closed his eyes and let his mind go blank, noticing distantly that the aching in his head had finally gone away.

Although a troubling spot of guilt remained at the back of his mind, Yusuke smiled to himself.

Akira's bed really was uncomfortable.


End file.
